The Gift She Gave Us
by bobbingformangos
Summary: Regina gave Emma the gift of happy memories.


_Title: The Gift She Gave Us_

_Summary: Regina gave Emma the gift of happy memories._

_Notes: This is updated in parts on my tumblrs (bobbingformangos and thequeensfavor) and then composed into chapters to post here for you guys. _

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"Time for bed kid," Emma said with a soft smile, taking a seat on the blue covers of Henry's bed. She reached up to tuck the young boy's covers around his shoulders before she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. She smoothed down the covers with a soft smile and then tucked her hands in her lap. "Did you have a good day?"

Henry nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I like when we go hang out in Central Park. It reminds me of her, you know?"

Emma smiled softly, something tugging harder at the simple memories that she had of Henry's other mother - something that she seemed to have forgotten. Her smile slowly slid away, suddenly hoping that she didn't forget anything. There was a tugging inside her, something about the woman she had shared a life with was missing.

"Everything okay, Ma?" Henry asked, sitting up on his elbows, concern worrying his eyebrows.

Emma collected herself and nodded her head with a sad smile. She glanced past her son to the photo next to his bed. There was a five-year-old Henry wrapped up in the arms of a dark haired woman and Emma. Emma's eyes were glancing happily over at the woman with a happiness overtaking her face.

Henry turned his head to follow Emma's gaze. He reached out a hand to grasp her's and shrugged, "I miss mom too. Sometimes I can smell her or remember little things about her - not much, but enough."

Emma turned to him, taking her eyes away from the woman who was lost from their lives many years ago. "She loved you, you know? I think that's all you have to remember."

One last glance at the photograph, Emma turned her attention to her son. She leaned forward, once again, kissing his forehead. She softly whispered against his head, "Goodnight, my little prince."

And just like that, Emma felt like she could still feel Regina there with the two of them.

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Emma curled up on the couch. It's been nearly seven years without the woman in the photos that lined her apartment, a woman that was slowly slipping from her memory, but she couldn't help but clutch on as tight as she could. She pulled the quilt around her tighter.

Regina had made that quilt for Henry when he was two - little over a year after she came into their lives. When she left, Emma couldn't let go of the material. Keeping it at the end of their bed instead of at the end of their son's.

How could she let it go?

Even after all these years, she couldn't let her go.

There was something, something tugging at her that she couldn't grasp.

A memory that seemed to slip away from her despite how hard she tried to remember it.

"Ma?" A tired voice asked from the doorway.

Emma turned, wiping her eyes as she focused on her son. She gave him a tired smile, "Hey kid, couldn't sleep?"

He frowned and shook his head as he rubbed his eyes with a fist, a quirk that he had kept since he was a newborn. The lanky twelve year old padded across the wooden floor barefoot to the open arms Emma had to receive him. He curled into the blonde, hands wrapped around her middle as he tucked his head into her arm. She wrapped the quilt around the two of them before placing a kiss on his forehead.

Henry sighed, "I don't like today."

Emma nodded in agreement, "I know, me either. To top it off, we had that weirdo at our door this morning." She frowned at the thought of the hooked man who assaulted her.

"Today was supposed to be about her," Henry whispered, cuddling into his mother more, just like he had as a small toddler. "We were supposed to remember her."

Emma sucked in air, trying to control her emotions and push back the tears. She leaned forward to press a soft kiss on Henry's forehead before bringing her hand up to comb through his hair. She whispered, "I know, kid. I can't believe it's already been seven years without her. It doesn't get easier on us, does it?"

Henry shook his head, "No, it doesn't. It's as if she's still there, you know? That she's still out there waiting for us."

The tears dropping onto Henry's head couldn't be controlled as Emma glanced up to look at the photos lining the walls. Most, now recent, but in between there were family photos of the three of them. Exploring New York after moving from Boston. Going to Disney World. Laughing on the couch. They were inseparable, "the Queen and her family" they used to joke.

"I know, Henry, I know," Emma choked out, "I feel it too, kid."

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They met in an apple orchard outside of Boston. Henry was nearly eleven months and Emma wanted to spend the day with her son, exploring. She was barely nineteen but she tried her hardest to create a life worthy of her son. The infant was toddling around a tree when he fell at the feet of a woman who was reaching up to pick off the reddest apple that Emma has ever seen.

Emma remembered how the sun danced off Regina's olive skin and the brightness of her red lipstick. She remembered the smile brimming onto the older woman's face as she looked down to spy the long haired little boy who was pulling himself up by holding onto her grey slacks.

The moment that Regina bent down to pick up the little boy had Emma frozen in the spot she stood in. Her camera dangling around her neck, a plastic grocery bag filled with an assortment of apples dangling from her arm, and her mouth slightly open.

It was fuzzy now - the memory - but she could remember the bright smile on Regina's face as she met Emma's eyes, cocked an eyebrow, and asked huskily, "Is he your's?"

That was a long time ago, though.

They spent four happy years with Regina. The woman who had quickly wove herself into their lives - becoming a lover to Emma and a mother to Henry - had left her fingerprints on every inch of their hearts. It was unfair that she was taken out of their grasp. People weren't meant to slip so easy between their fingers.

"She saved us," Henry said the next morning, taking a bite out of a crisp apple as he met Emma's eyes. They had fallen asleep on the couch, wrapped in Henry's quilt with fuzzy memories of a woman who loved them deeply.

Emma tilted her head, "What do you mean, kid?"

Henry scrunched his eyebrows together as he tried to think. He bit his lip and stared at his apple for a moment. The moment passed quickly before he bit into his apple and shrugged his shoulders, "I don't remember. Anyway, are you going to walk me home after school or should I go to the rec center?"

"I think I will be done at the station early today but if not then -"

There was a loud knock on their door. They paused, food held up midway to their lips, as the mother and son looked at each other.

Emma quickly stood up and walked to the door when the knocking didn't stop. She threw the door open, eyes furrowed in frustration, "I thought I told you to go away!"

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"So, you're saying that my parents are alive?" Emma asked with hesitance, her head in her hands after the discussion that has occurred in her living room over the last two hours. "And they are in grave danger?"

"Yes, love," Killian sighed, leaning back in the chair and taking the time to look over the apartment. Taking in the small details - a quilt tucked behind Henry as he sat next to his mother, curiosity woven on his face as he looked between his mother and the man sitting across from them. Killian tore his eyes away from them, not wanting to meet Henry's eyes, as he continues to glance around.

"And they are in some magical land?" Emma's voice filled with skepticism. This was a sick joke. It was a fucking bad one at that.

_Why in the hell did you ever invite him in, Swan?_ Emma asked herself.

She knew why though.

The unanswered questions in the story of her life were eating away at the blonde. She spent most of her teenage years looking for parents who left her on the side of the road. It was only until she had Henry - and Regina - that she felt that her family was complete and no answers were needed.

But after Regina was gone - Emma remembered the need to find them again.

"Was in a magical land, love, but yeah, that's right," Hook said, as he scrunched his eyes and tried to see the photos lining the wall. He could make out a few glossy photos of Henry, but there were more scattered around. He stood up as he caustically threw out at the two, "And the two of yous lost your memory, so you don't remember any of…"

His voice trailed off as he stood in front of the photographs. He looked over the images in confusion - from one smiling, happy trio, to another photo of the same smiling faces.

He quickly turned around, coat swishing behind him as he looked at the two on the couch before tapping his hook on the frame of a photo of Emma, Regina, and Henry laughing on the beach together when the boy was three.

Emma's head swung up at the tap, anger crossing her face as she quickly stood up to stop him. "Careful there buddy, if you broke that."

"Who's that?" Killian asked, eyes wide as he attempted to gage what Emma knew. Regina didn't tell him that she put herself in their memories. Especially in this kind of context.

"None of your business," Emma denied, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't know why she was even entertaining the idea that her parents could even be alive, let alone that they were in danger because they were some fucking fairy tale characters. She should have shut the door in his face and called her buddies from the station to come take his eyeliner wearing ass away.

"Oh, but I think that it is," Killian said as he cocked an eyebrow.

"No, I don't think it is," Emma said, stepping closer challenging him. "And I think it's time you left my son and I alone."

"Now why would I do that, love, when I can tell you where she is," his hook tapped against the glass again.

Emma, angered, stepped forward to stop him but before she could reach out Henry quickly found himself between the two, eyes wide with hope.

"You know her? You know my mom?" Henry asked, frantically. "But she's dead!"

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In the greys of early morning, when all was quiet, Regina used to caress the back of Emma's neck in her sleep. It would wake the blonde slightly - not too much, just slightly. Emma would curl deeper into the older woman, her tank top raising up to expose her stomach so that it would warm against Regina's soft flesh, and Emma would moan into Regina's neck.

This would cause the older woman to lightly chuckle, continue her caresses, and kiss the blonde on her head. Emma remembered the husk of her voice, rough after hours of not using it, as she whispered against her forehead.

"Don't forget, Emma," the words would fall from her lips like water Emma was thirsty for, "I love you so much."

The words would settle in the pit of Emma's stomach and fill her to the brim. It was one of the memories that Emma remembers so distinctly.

It was completely fresh in her head.

She attributed it to the fact that she held onto it - that she clutched on to each moment that she was told that she was loved, that she was cared about and (of course) that she was _her_ idiot.

Emma felt like she was going to get sick.

The memories, all of her memories, flooded her head in a mist of haziness. It was as if they were clouded in some sort of way - yet she could remember certain things so clearly. She could remember being in the hospital, moments after she had Henry, refusing to hold him. She remembered how the lights flickered in time with her cries and how much her body hurt. Yet, then, they start to get fuzzy, unnoticeably so.

Like there was something missing.

She shook her head at Killian as she stepped backwards, bumping into the couch before falling down onto it. Her head quickly found it's way into her hands as she tried to organize everything.

"She was getting milk," Emma started, noticing the fuzziness around the memory of Regina laughing with her as they maneuvered around the kitchen as if they were doing a perfectly synchronized dance as they gathered ingredients to make Henry's favorite baked mac, cheese, and tuna.

Emma sucked in breath as she remembered Regina discovering that they were out of milk. She walked over to the blonde and kissed her lips, ever so softly with so much love behind it, before caressing her cheek. Regina's eyes were brown and they always found her green ones and Emma couldn't understand why the memory was so hard to think about clearly.

"I love you so much, Emma," Regina had whispered against her lips and kissed her gently once more. She wore a red dress and black heels, a black peacoat quickly put on before she opened the door. Emma remembered the smile, so much love directed to her, as Regina yelled out, "Love you, Henry."

And then she was gone.

She never came back.

They never found her.

She was dead. That's what the station had confirmed.

But Emma couldn't remember how or why or what the funeral was like.

"My mom's alive?" Henry asked once more, despite Killian's earlier explanation.

Killian nodded his head, "Yes, lad, and in danger. We have to leave now. I can't wait anymore, Swan. You guys need to get on my ship, now."

Emma looked up, eyes watering, unable to make sense of anything. She looked to her son, the boy who still had so much growing to do and she was his only savior.

Savior.

Something in Emma caught fire, granting her the willpower to stand up. She took a deep breath before meeting Henry's eyes, "Go pack a suitcase, kid, I don't know how long we will be."

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There was a sleepy town on the coast of Maine that was never really there, until one day, an evil witch casted a ghastly curse to send all of our favorite storybook characters to live in such a mundane place. Away from castles and royals, away from dragons and mermaids, away from everything that they had ever known.

Except, for these characters, the wicked witch only recasted a curse - slightly different than the last - that sent them back to the one place that they wanted to go.

They were stripped of their titles and they were back to being teachers, shop owners, inn keepers, doctors, and everything in between.

But only if it were that easy.

They retained every memory, every pain, and they clutched onto it in their hands as if it was the only grain of hope they could ever have.

Their magic didn't work quite as it had before, the town line was now impassable, and they were locked away in the small town that was still, now, invisible to the rest of the world fearing for the moment that the wicked witch returned.

Hope was slowly fading.

That's the story the pirate told her as he maneuvered his ship into the docks of the tired little town. The full moon was high in the sky as Emma sat back against the stairs looking up at the stars. Henry's head rested in her lap as her red leather jacket was draped over his shoulders.

Halfway during the pirate's story she had to tell him to stop. It was too much for the blonde - too much to process and even believe.

But yet she was here, right?

There was truth in his words, a conviction that Emma didn't need her little quirk to decipher.

She caressed Henry's floppy brown hair absentmindedly as she noticed the constellations in the sky.

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When Henry was growing up, they would go back to the orchard where they first met Regina. Emma smiled at the memory, thinking about how it was the only time they could get the older woman to camp outside with them. Late into the night, once Henry was tucked inside his sleeping bag in the tent, Emma and Regina would lie on a quilt on the grass and look up at the stars.

"That's Cassiopeia," Emma whispered as she ran her fingers under Regina's shirt to stroke her stomach. Moaning at the feeling of the brunette's smooth skin under her fingertips. "Sacrificed by her parents to appease the gods."

Regina stoked Emma's hair, "But she was saved, Emma."

"Then forever damned to live for eternity in the stars," Emma said, lifting her head to look at Regina, chin resting on Regina's chest. "Even then there were no happy endings."

Regina smiled sadly at Emma, fingers coming up to caress the blonde's cheek before she leaned down to kiss Emma's forehead. She grinned as she huskily replied, "Good thing we have our own happy ending, dear."

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"We're here, love," Killian announced, bringing Emma out of her thoughts.

Blinking her eyes and shaking her head, she then looked around at the old buildings lining the pier. They were whitewashed and the paint was peeling. There were black lamps lighting the wooden pier that lead to what looked like the main street of the town.

Emma shook Henry's shoulders, "Wake up, kid, time to save the world apparently."

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"Emma?!" The strangled cry escaping Snow's lips caused the blonde to immediately put a protective arm around Henry's chest and jump back.

The town hall was filled with various people when they walked in, talking in panicked, high pitched voices that immediately silenced when Killian threw open the doors and walked down the center of the aisle, leading Emma and Henry into the large room.

Snow immediately stopped, noticing her daughter's hesitation and quick motion to pull her son into her before pushing him behind her back. Snow looked to Killian before looking back at Emma, hope filling her eyes.

"I guess that you know me?" Emma said softly, eyes taking in the dark haired woman - trying to figure out exactly who she was.

Various voices around the room began to whisper her name in disbelief and amazement only further causing Emma's confusion.

But it was her son's voice that echoed in her ears.

"Mom?" Henry whispered, slowly pulling himself from Emma's grasp. He peered around her shoulder, breath hitching in realization. "Mom!"

Emma's eyes immediately found the brown eyes of the woman she had spent years loving, missing, and yearning for. Unable to let go of Henry's arm, still keeping him close as tears welled up in her eyes. She whispered, looking past the woman and man standing in the center of the room to Regina.

"You…Henry…you remember?" Regina managed to whisper looking from Henry to Emma, her hand coming to her mouth as she stared back and forth between her son and his mother.

Regina spent the last year letting go of her son. She found herself letting go of her happiness as it fell through her fingers, knowing that his mother would love the little boy.

When she gave them new memories, it was fast and quick, but she made sure that happiness was involved in their lives. She made sure that they would have an easy life to live, one without worry. When she made their memories, she made them from the love for her son and the happiness she wanted for the blonde. Her magic took care of the intimate details as her curse swallowed her up and forever took her from her son.

Though, Regina was learning, forever was never a long time.

"Why wouldn't I remember you, Mom?" Henry managed, as he tried to pull away from Emma.

The movement caused the blonde to pull out of her thoughts.

Regina was right there - alive - and healthy.

She looked the same as she did in the memories she had of the woman, in the photos lining her apartment walls.

Holding tight to her son, she walked down the aisle, pushing past the people standing between her and Regina, before stopping right in front of the dark haired woman.

Regina's eyes were filled with tears; hope and love filling her eyes, and Emma couldn't stop herself.

Questions were pushed away, disbelief was gone, and all that stood there was Regina.

Their first kiss was heated, passionate, and desperate - Regina always seemed to want to savor the memory of kissing the blonde. It was when Emma let go of Henry's hand to step forward, grasping Regina's face in her hands, and leaned forward to kiss the woman that she was pushed away before her lips could even come in contact with Regina's.

Regina, surprised by the intense emotion from the blonde, looked between Emma and her son before breathing out, "What do you think you are doing, Miss Swan?"

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_She had her hair tucked behind her ear when you first met her. You noticed that, as she reached up to grasp the apple and when she reached down to pick up your son, you noticed that. Her hair, wisping in the wind, tucked behind her ear as she gave you a tight lipped smile. _

_It was the same smile she would give you when she caught you looking at her. She would reach up; tuck her hair behind her ear, before looking down. _

_That quickly turned into her leaning forward to kissing you. Each kiss was as if she wanted to savor it, remember it, and ingrain it into every part of her memory. _

_Just like how she wanted you to remember that she loved you. "Please don't forget," she would whisper to you as you clung to each other, bodies sweaty and panting. "I love you, Emma Swan, always will, my dear one." _

_She spoke the words like a confession._

_Even then, she knew that none of this was real. _


End file.
